esmondng on November 8th, 2011
I am antithetic not from Autumn leaves,
When my season arrives, too I wilt, fall and fade.
But I have felt the magic of Spring and warmth of Summer,
And through Winter I will remember Thee.
esmondng on October 22nd, 2011
I am but flesh and meek,
Make my weakness perfect in Thee.
My strength I call out to,
The author and finisher of my faith,
Uphold me, uphold me.
Amen.
esmondng on January 23rd, 2011
To me Love is but to Love,
Nothing less than which suffices the word.
To me Love is surely to give,
Unconditionally to put the other as first.
When sit I in still of night ponder,
Why of all do I miss Thee every unengaged?
Of my waking moments does do doeth,
That you fill my mind of you and your images.
Nothing else matters,
For you am I yours only should you ask given.
I am everything I choose for you be,
If only you see what I see.
But this night I sit again yet rethinketh,
What be I to you then I wonder.
Would I be to you what you be to me?
Would I be first everything just like my Love to me?
For you not to me what I to you,
Always had put in first place my heart true.
I believed once, I did,
I believed in you and me.
esmondng on July 22nd, 2008
Charyle French of which,
Close to seem of little and womanly.
Name aptly to fit,
She that what it means.
For Her Her façade sweet,
Yet charm no not lacking.
From dozens more of her pics,
More allure than all my eyes seen.
Bloom if Thou art exquisite,
Then whole fields of petals I’ll see.
Not for sun shineth on Thee,
But for sun shimmers for She.
esmondng on July 22nd, 2008
Sugary most not definitely,
Taste if sweetened bifold still lacking.
Why Time still bitter bids me chimera,
When all in alpha was such heavenly.
What more a man can be?
When in dreams his stance airs not his belief.
In reverie when vagary permits,
He chooses silence yet to speak.
They say dreams best for utopian schemes,
Where you are master of all it.
Then why not did I stage a better hit,
Why chose I a tragic love misfit?
I comfort though in succor of relief,
That Thee I glimpsed in beaming bliss.
For this I may never awaken see,
If not my lucid Bubu dream.
esmondng on July 22nd, 2008
These three words most commonly used;
Misused, underused and superfluously accented.
For oft-imagined they only indulged in Lovers’ converse,
Neglected Love of kinships and friends due.
If Fate so callously command should to me,
That next beautiful sunrise again I will never see.
Then let all I adore be told these three,
Lest they cease to ever remember me remember Thee.
For Love be from me to my Parents rightfully,
And Love be to all close or even acquainted me.
Not least be Love to fore Lovers of mine give,
That each did I bare for Thine wholeheartedly.
Did chance not I had to profess all these?
Nay I say, for my actions they preceded me.
Only for moments with me not around to please,
I Love You for moments just like these.
esmondng on July 22nd, 2008
If a smile can win the world over,
Nothing is beyond Thy reach.
If a smile can make grey skies blue,
Why rainbows do we need?
A child’s smile innocently put,
Melt hearts without universal speech.
If smiles do miracles around us every each,
Then why not I see you smile more than you really mean?
Thee had said smiles better frowns than,
For someone may indeed be falling for them.
Losing only to a loving kiss,
A smile’s a gift kindly a beautiful thing.
I believe smiles genuine stems from happiness within,
Something we all long but forlorn it seems.
Why not let your smiles guide life along with steps take Thee,
For they mean you be most joyous at that instance be.
I seek a smile on you every second to see,
A smile on you brings many smiles to me.
For wrinkles not age but tells where smiles have been,
I wish those smiles were hath been because me.
esmondng on July 22nd, 2008
“Flowers” by Esmond Ng © copyright 11/01/06
In colors more varied than rainbows exhibit,
Petals from assortment of flowers they carry.
Like the beauty from which these chromatics due,
Such so is her liking for such colors; such hues.
For she be no favorite of particular bloom,
That all flowers be equal pleasing; receiving too.
I know not her but seems to me she,
In love with flowers than those buzzing around her constantly.
Not to say diddly of her nor just porcelain to view,
Nay don’t get me wrong, you deserve many festoons.
For flowers they belong only to an elegant minority,
And truth be, that you amongst the very few.
I adore the way your companion puts it,
That you be personified beast’s beau.
For most of us categorized as such,
And fittingly that Thee fits beauty’s shoe.
esmondng on July 22nd, 2008
“Love should not need” by Esmond Ng © copyright 07/01/06
Words from Thy Heart need not speak,
For tongues unworldly fit deem to say of it.
See need not Love’s eye to sight,
That what you be feeling needn’t show explicit.
Thoughts as such no one seems know,
Less even as to touch your soul.
I beg to differ that it be not the involvement of hands,
That melts what where your true self beats.
Thou longeth for glances candied and delicate lips,
Even memories to warm up and safe keep.
But most of all what your beatings forlorn need,
Is a Love; fairytale ever after to exist.
I be saying all these as same I somewhat agree,
That what you dearly hold on to I can relate honestly.
If kind fate should ever decree favorably,
Too I search what you too seek.
Magical if such Love should indeed extant be,
Doubt I that Thou will really ever should need;
Such speech, sight, mind and senses sweet,
For Love is the only thing needed transcend all these.
No words said but thoughts the other knows,
No visions but the other Thee clearly in head sees.
No tendering touches but still lucidly; felt we.
For Love true should if exist,
All these irrelevant be; we not need.
esmondng on July 22nd, 2008
The first being you my eyes see,
That such is sense sweet of sight.
That Love they say blind is,
Nay I say for you not their visions find.
Secondly the serene sound of Thee,
Voice as choir concordant pleasing.
That all who chance hear of such music,
Shall no longer stray but choose near stay it.
Third my nose will first recognize,
That scent of fresh on Thy skin fine.
Which lingers as flowers in Spring,
Luscious I remember will always seem.
That fourth sense of touch never can forget,
The sensations when skins they match.
Cause hearts to beat uncontrollably,
And breaths hastened to the beats.
Only once did our lips meet,
Yet this fifth feeling is forever engraved deep.
The taste of innocent lips,
The pervading taste of Love’s reach.
Such are five senses commonly said,
But one more true that is the sixth.
That the one truth from the heart Love speaks,
Is the one which overrules all the preceding.
esmondng on July 22nd, 2008
Rainbows, the most spectacular show of lights on Earth.
Colors which make happy even the darkest of Hades.
Called so due to dispersed spectrum through mist,
Miracle of Nature indeed it is.
Seven colors some deem display of refraction properties.
Simply I ascribe each to every day of week,
That thoughts of you equally as pleasing sweet;
So such candied beauty is actually reflected on Thy cheeks.
What makes it all amazing, the bow of the rain,
Bending it’s colorations down for Thee.
Few fathom the top of bow is where ye sun is peaked,
The very place Thou be when Thy eyes chance upon should it.
More so fewer knows the sun be behind when Rainbows are seen;
The warm rays of console backing you though unseen.
When Thou should thinkst all is gloom and so biting,
Turn and look, there may your forlorn beam be.
I have heard from a dear friend this,
“That everyone through storms go before a Rainbow achieved.”
Think of it this, even Noah’s storm for forty days and nights did;
Take heart Dearie, your Rainbow is on due way soon you’ll see.
esmondng on July 22nd, 2008
Your promise to me, I cling on dearly;
Like a babe’s insecurity away from His mother’s embracing peace.
Your promise to me, I wish realized daily;
That each second passes, I die more so gradually.
In song, quando when Thee be mine?
Quando tornerete? My moments a day, my days truly a lifetime.
For in song seems improbable this relation be,
But in Life this be my soul song that sings.
When He simile’d that each thought of Thee a flower be,
That He then a garden could have beautiful and big.
I tell Thee this: “That my garden no smaller than His,”
“That my garden gardened duly due to Thee.”
I thinks’t not any little less of my baby,
Not today, these days or what tomorrow be.
That added frownings I want not for Thee,
Thus back to my secret garden I wait admirably;
My garden kept watered by your promise to me.
esmondng on July 22nd, 2008
In glee, my joyous soul longeth for Thee;
To share and savor each victory with Thou art and only.
That each becomes a pleasantly sweet memory,
One which I can in retrospect say: “Ah, I did that with Thee!”
In melancholy, my woeful heart’s voice calls for Thee,
To find solace and comfort when Thee beside me.
That Thou’s assuring voice and hug can be just as sugary,
As ye sunshine smile when I set eyes on my lovely.
Where art Thou when I so pined for Thee?
Where art Thou when moments I so wished spent along my baby?
That I could have so much more pleasing dreamings,
Where art Thou when I wish you with me?
esmondng on July 22nd, 2008
The other night you were away,
Out went I, gallivanting amidst boisterous crowds.
Fluttering to music or rather, noises all too loud;
Loneliness did help, aid to plug them out.
How happy you could not see,
My face that moment of message yours I received.
But it must have been noticed my face which gleamed,
For burdened everyone else’s around me.
Seemingly drunk I stammered home,
However fresh your memory I hold untainted close.
That all I can think of is Thee in foreign land remote,
And how far my baby is though under the same moon glow.
After much debate did my eyes actually occlude,
To sleep I thought “Hey, tomorrow will be better posed.”
Serenity tranquil associated to rest not true,
For it seemed my night was terribly consumed.
Four times aroused through the dark slumbers,
Each time I recall, I dreamt of only you.
And once did I cry before from truly forty winks awoke,
How else could my pillow and sheets be soaked?
They say a drunk’s word most honest; it be true,
Wanted to know whose name I’d call if I were juiced.
Wanted to see if in Love really I be with you,
No need an answer now for my seek of candor truth.
For know I this moment where it belongs,
My heart and yearnings; they for you.
At least I fathomed my feelings as honest real,
At least I know now my breath breathes for you.
esmondng on July 22nd, 2008
I’m sorry my promise I couldn’t see with Thee,
The symphony of Fireworks that Thee so wanted so fancied.
Owing to circumstances I know both we can’t foresee,
I truly wanted it to be ours; our uniquely memory.
But Thee so chose to give to another this our memory,
That He may not even appreciate; just to entertain not genuinely.
Though with elseone Thee had viewed the colorings momentarily,
I wonder who be on Thy mind when Thee beheld the spectacle see?
My glimpse from afar though same as Thee’s,
My head under the same lit sky night really far away be.
I don’t know, I wonder what really;
But my foolish thinking that on Thee’s mind be me.
esmondng on July 22nd, 2008
I remember everything you ever told me,
That examples many I can quote Thee.
How can Thee not know where it be?
That your Heart belongs to who with?
“That sooner or later people will know” shows it.
“That with Thee’s each missing of me” shows it.
“That with you have changed driver” shows it.
“That with each other’s face cringed” shows it.
“With each time you show me to others” proves it.
“With each penguin’s nod agreeing u miss me” proves it.
“With acknowledging already me your new driver” proves it.
“With each lovely and concerned word you speak” proves it.
Each kiss and hug that lands on other each,
Each intimate moment you could not have faked it.
Even to extent for my good Thee wanted to hurt only,
So that I may move on but you suffer silently.
“How can you not know where It be?”
esmondng on July 22nd, 2008
It be not 2 days without winks that is tiring,
Neither it be yawning nor aches that wear me; toll-ings.
But is with each second of wide-eyed awakenings,
That my missings for Thee that is killing.
I turn and toss without my mind stop pondering,
How it wrongs to be this way that should move in.
That not to sleep not owing to not physically draining,
But to heartaches and longings that my body is not sleeping.
esmondng on July 22nd, 2008
Half-Past Midnight, a time I look forward to every night recently;
When I stay glued to wait for Thee’s voice on other line so religiously.
That when retrospectively think back of these,
How many lovely nights did we chat away in secrecy?
Now that Thee is somewhat further away, snatched from me;
Does it mean that I wait not for Thee’s voice same time each lonely dark be?
Nay, I tell Thee I still do the same for now and eternity,
As long as I deem it all to be worth it; with no regrets live.
Even now it’s be somewhat long past it,
I long and pray even for a short message to make it sweet.
That each gloomy sky without hearing your voice gentle callings,
How then can you expect that I “Please to bed early”?
esmondng on July 22nd, 2008
My voice, an abysmal void till an appreciated ear that heard.
The song which from my withins touched when lovers’ hearts grown.
Lest it be another day, another 24 hours that will toil,
My voice, seemingly grows weak and frail when thee not by me close.
Melts your heart, my voice over song I was told;
Melts the very depths of thy all so tired and lost now rekindled soul.
What really at work is not my voice as commoners so perceived,
But is the Love from both that this voice can do its magic deed.
That this bonding between us should so unjustly be thrown; away to cold.
That which thee takes your belongings too took my very soul.
Along with it my voice, bits and pieces of me,
Are thrown on hard floor, my poor old glass heart again shattered and broke.
esmondng on July 22nd, 2008
Dreams be to most snapping back into reality,
That with each dawning bright, ideas of wish fade into dark.
My mind often hear things with sensitivity,
So obscure it may seem like such idle dreams.
Do I really pick up any of Thy subtlety?
Hidden in simple art of word pictures see?
Or it be just plain foolishness on me,
To hold on these sands of Time; slipping through open fingers quickly.
Still stubbornness and wishfully tight I hold my grip,
Not wanting go my own fantasy dream.
Till this day feel that God would have kinder to me,
No goodbyes; that His grace could have shown through your sweet company.
“I can only dream” what Thee makes of it,
More than dreams I still pray that Thee revert decisions please.
For I know I’d treasure this silly love theme,
Even though it may just be another of my dawning dreams.
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